


Revealing

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2019-05-30 18:09:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15102173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: The gang of old celebrates Halloween together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: Just some fluff to lighten the mood around here. This is set before Sam left 'cause Sam is too much fun to write. No spoilers.  


* * *

If I hear the words "it was so much fun" one more time, I'm going to hang up.

My sister, not known for being the life of the party, suddenly has this kick-ass social life. 

In Madison. 

Wisconsin. 

Where the only things people care about right now are the Packers and the fall crop.

"...And then we went to this new restaurant, Rebel. You should see the bar at this place! Swan-ky!" I loathe how she stresses the two syllables. 

She goes on and on about the fire pit outside and the Moroccan curtains and taper candles. Mind you, she has two pre-teens at home. Of course, she and my brother-in-law have a live-in nanny, so the kids rarely stop her from doing anything. But anything used to be shopping, going to a spa, or having coffee with the girls. 

Before this recent round of nighttime frolicking, I can't remember the last time my sister truly had a good time. Come to think of it, I can't remember the last time _I_ truly had a good time.

"Donna, do you have a minute?" CJ asks, stopping in front of my desk.

I spin around in my chair. I think that's when CJ realizes I'm on the phone.

"Oh," she says, holding up her hand. "I'll come back."

"No!" I yell.

"Excuse me?" my sister asks.

I give CJ my best pleading look, hoping she understands she's just saved me. "I have to go. I'll talk to you soon." I don't wait for my sister to say goodbye before hanging up the phone. I put my head in my hands. "Thank God."

"Boring conversation?" CJ smirks.

"Not boring, irritating." I look up at her. "My sister has this new social life that's driving me insane."

"The one with the kids?"

"My only sister." I lean back in my chair. "She turned 40 last month, and she's gone out at least one night a week since then."

CJ shrugs. "Sounds fun."

I give her a disgusted look. "She's married with two kids. I'm single with none, yet she has more fun than I do."

"Funny you should mention that." She closes the folder in her hands. "Care to take a stroll?"

I look at Josh's door, which has been shut for the better part of an hour. He and Sam are working on the President's speech for the State Dinner. Toby refused to, as he put it, "waste my time on tortured metaphors and appalling alliteration."

"Sure."

"What do you think about a Halloween party?" CJ asks on our way to the Mess.

"I love Halloween," I respond.

"Me too. I couldn't tell you the last time I went to a Halloween party."

"I could," I say, stepping into the Mess. "1995. Sig Ep house. All I remember is the smoke in the house wasn't from dry ice. This place gave new meaning to contact high. It wasn't pretty." 

CJ smiles at me. "We should have one."

"A party?"

"Not just any old party," she says. "A Halloween party."

I shrug. "Ok."

We sit down to discuss the logistics of such a party while eating fresh-baked brownies. Mario really does a good job with the baked goods. CJ and I decide that neither of our places are big enough to hold the event, so she comes up with a not-so-brilliant idea. 

The next thing I know, we're knocking on Toby's door.

"Come in," he answers.

We do as we're told, but CJ steps farther inside than I.

"We need to have a word with you," she begins.

Toby doesn't look up. His head is cradled in his left hand while he writes feverishly with his right. "About?"

"Halloween."

"Halloween?" He stops writing but still doesn't look up.

CJ nods.

"I don't think he saw that," I whisper.

"Let me get this straight." He finally looks at us. Correction: glares. "You came to my office in the middle of the day to discuss a pagan holiday?"

"Technically, it's not the middle of the day," I say. "It's closer to, you know, midnight."

He doesn't seem amused.

CJ steps in. "We're having a Halloween party, and we'd like you to host it."

I nod.

Toby gently puts his pen down, then folds his hands on the desk. "Tell me you're joking."

I shake my head.

"We're not. It'll be fun," CJ says, smiling. She doesn't seem as frightened of Toby as I am. In fact, she's not scared of him at all.

"I can't tell you how much that's not going to happen," he says. He's grinning probably at the audacity of the suggestion.

"Come on, Toby. You have a big house and a yard. It's the perfect place for Halloween festivities," CJ pleads.

"Now there are festivities?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Donna and I will organize everything." 

I admire CJ's determination.

Toby glares at me. "Was this your idea?"

I vigorously shake my head.

CJ ignores me. And Toby's response to everything for that matter. "We'll pay for everything, too."

I jump back a bit. "We will?"

She turns back to him. "Don't be such a grumpus, Toby. This is your chance to show people you're actually a fun guy."

"They need convincing?" I do admire the man's dry wit.

"What's going on?" Sam asks, popping his head in.

"We're having a Halloween party at Toby's house," CJ says.

Sam looks overjoyed. "I'll bring deviled eggs."

"We're NOT having a party at my house," Toby responds loudly.

"What's up?" Josh asks, stepping inside the office.

"Halloween party at Toby's," Sam says.

"Cool. I haven't been to a Halloween party since..." he pauses in consternation. "Since freshman year of college."

"Did you wear a costume?" Sam asks.

"Yeah. I was, uh, drunk."

"You were a drunk?" I ask. "You mean like a hobo with disheveled clothes, and beer spilled in your hair for effect?"

Josh stares at me. "Not 'a' drunk. Just 'drunk'. And the beer in my hair wasn't so much for effect."

"Enough!" Toby yells. "Don't you all have jobs to do?"

"I, for one, am excited about the party," Sam says, stepping out of the office. "I've always enjoyed costumes."

"Me, too, Sparky," CJ says. She turns back to Toby. "Saturday, 7 o'clock. Donna and I will be there early to set up."

Toby puts his head in his hands. "Out!"

***  
When I return to my desk after a late lunch with Carol, I notice a package on my chair. I pick it up, shake it, then look at the label. Huh. It's marked private, and it's for Josh. 

That's never stopped me before.

As I'm about to rip into the rectangular box, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around to see Josh jogging towards me.

"Don't open that!"

"Why not?" I pull the scissors away from the package.

He removes the box from my hands. "It's for me."

"I always open your stuff." I put my hands on my hips.

He eyes the box. "Haven't we discussed that in the past?"

I glare at him, but I don't think he notices. He's still toying with the package.

"Fine," I huff. "From now on, I won't open your stuff. I'll let you sort through the hundreds of useless pieces of mail you receive every day. See how you like that."

Finally, he looks at me. "You can open my mail, Donna. Just not this package." He walks into his office.

I'm quick on his heels. "What is it?"

"I'm not telling you." Josh tries prying the box open with his bare hands.

I'd tell him there's no way he's going to rip the packaging tape that way, but I'm enjoying watching him struggle right about now, you know, with his shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows and his forearms flexing.

"Josh!" I whine.

"There are some things you can't see, Donna." He reaches into his desk drawer, presumably for something sharp.

"It's not like it's a bomb or anything." I huff. Shit. What if it is? What if the reason Josh can't tell me what's in the box is because it's a bomb? "Is it?"

"Yes, Donna. I ordered a bomb to be delivered to my place of employment, which, by the way, is the White House."

"You're mean."

"I'm really not." His dimples are out. When his dimples are out, he doesn't seem so mean as he does, you know, hot.

I sigh. "You're with Leo in ten."

"Yeah." He looks at me expectantly. "Close the door."

I’ve learned my lesson in the past. This time I don't even have to ask. He wants me on the other side.

*  
Everyone's talking about the Halloween party. Most people have bought costumes or already know what they're going to be. I haven't a clue. I thought Josh and I could go as some kind of duo, but we haven't discussed the party at all. Granted, he's been extremely busy, but I'd like to at least have two days to either make a costume or go to that giant Halloween store in Foggy Bottom.

After his meeting on the Hill, Josh returns to the office in a surprisingly good mood.

He yells my name, but it's not a menacing sounding "Donna."

"Yes?" I lean against his doorframe with my arms folded. It's one of my favorite things to do to him, especially when I'm wearing a skirt.

Josh's eyes roam from my feet to my breasts. They get stuck there.

"Josh?"

"Hmm?"

There we go. He finally looks at my face.

"You called?"

"Yeah. I need you to call Congressman Santos' office. Let's see if we can kick this guy around a bit about the education bill."

He holds a piece of paper out in front of him. 

I push myself away from the door jamb and grab it. I crease the paper between my fingers. "You should know about the rules."

"What rules?" He sits in his chair.

"The Halloween party rules."

"There are rules?" He raises his eyebrows. "Let me guess. You made up these rules?"

"I did."

"You know how much I hate your rules." Josh rubs his eyes.

"Hey, I gave you two uninterrupted hours of work for three weeks when you recovered from your surgery. I hardly think you should be the one mocking my rules." I cross my arms.

"Fair point." He leans forward. "What are the rules?"

I adjust my stance, satisfied for now with his response. "The first rule is everyone must wear a costume."

"Ok."

Huh. I thought I'd take some heat for that one.

"The second one is that it has to be a surprise unless you're doing a group thing."

"Group thing?" Josh looks intrigued. His mouth hangs open for a split second, then he licks his lips.

"You know, the Three Stooges, Disney characters, Mutt and Jeff."

"Oh." 

I think Josh was thinking of something entirely different.

"So what are you going to be?" I ask, perching on the corner of his desk.

His eyes seem glued to my legs. "You just said it has to be a surprise."

"Yes, but..." I don't really know how to finish that sentence. "It should be a surprise, but not between us."

"I'm not telling you what my costume is." His dimples make an appearance.

"That's not fair." I pout.

He steals a quick glance at my lips.

"I'm just following the rules." He shrugs.

"Fine." I stand. "Will you at least give me a hint?"

He leans back in his chair and wiggles a pen between his index and pinky fingers. "It's revealing."

"Revealing?" I ask.

He nods.

"As in physically revealing or revealing about your personality?"

Josh tilts his head. "A little of both."

"You're impossible."

He smirks. "I'm ok with that."

I walk toward the door. "So is mine, you know."

I swear I hear him gulp. "Excuse me?"

I turn to face him. "My costume. It's revealing."

He pulls his chair further under his desk. "Ok," he says in a strangled tone.

Two can play at this game.

*  
I spend the rest of the afternoon trying to think of what Josh will be for Halloween. 

If it's revealing about his personality, he could be FDR, JFK, Gandhi, God, or Mike Piazza. What if it's revealing as in showing skin? He could be a wrestler or a swimmer with a tiny red bikini. No, Josh wouldn't walk around without a shirt. He's too self-conscious about his scar. _I_ would like to see him walking around shirtless. I've seen the man's chest and stomach. The scar just makes him hotter.

The more I think about Josh’s costume, the more clueless I become about my own. If it’s truly going to be revealing, I have to think of something good.

"I got it," CJ says, approaching my desk.

"You got what?"

"My costume." She holds up a big black thing that looks like a tuxedo bag.

"What is it?" I whisper.

"I'm not telling!" she yells.

"Everyone has their costume except me." I sigh.

"I doubt Toby does." She shrugs.

"That makes me feel so much better."

"There are hundreds of possibilities, Donna." She leans against my desk. "The place around the corner must have 500 costumes."

"It has to be revealing." I lower my head.

"Excuse me?"

"Revealing." I take a deep breath. "I was trying to get Josh to tell me what he was going to be, and all he would tell me was that it's revealing."

She raises her eyebrows. "I don't think I want to consider the options."

"CJ!"

"Ok. Why do you have to wear something revealing as well?"

I duck my head. "I sort of told him mine was revealing too."

"Ah."

"Yes."

"Well."

"Yes."

"So you have to find something to show off your assets?"

I blush.

CJ stares into the distance for a moment, then looks at me. "I got it: fishnet stockings."

I raise my eyebrows. "I don't know if I could pull off fishnet stockings."

"Of course you can!" She stands. "I've got a briefing in five minutes. We'll talk later."

She walks toward her office and yells back, "Trust me, you can pull it off."

Fishnet stockings? I can't pull it off. Maybe under my jeans or black slacks, but not under a dress or skirt. 

However, I _did_ tell Josh my costume is revealing. 

*  
I decide to check out this costume store while Josh is meeting with Toby and Sam. I asked Carol, Bonnie and Margaret to come with me, but they've all held to rule number two. They've also already decided on their costumes. Margaret ordered hers and Carol’s online. Apparently they’re a duo.

This place is more like a warehouse than a store. CJ's right – they must have about 500 costumes. I walk past the witches and the ghosts and the heavy-metal section. There's a surprisingly large section of animal costumes. Who in the hell would dress as a cow? Against the back wall, there appear to be no less than 50 wigs and all kinds of dresses. There's a mannequin with a sexy little number on. Then it hits me: I'm going to be a flapper.

Some of these dresses are appalling. The first one has thick black and red stripes. It looks more like an oddly colored bumblebee. The next dress is hot pink with rows of fringe. Then there's a white dress that looks more like a dominatrix outfit than a flapper. Just as I'm about to give up, I see a black dress shoved in with the brightly colored boas. 

This thing is hot. It's a very short black dress with beaded halter collar detailing, a feather headpiece, thigh high black sheer stockings, and garters. The only thing that would make this costume hotter would be strappy black heels. I have three pairs at home.

I look at the price tag. It's $50. That's about $30 more than I wanted to spend, but I think it's worth it. 

More importantly, Josh will think it's worth it.


	2. Revealing

It's Friday afternoon, and the West Wing is buzzing. I haven't seen this many people excited about something since the President's election. All of this is for a party? If I'd have known I could change moods by having a party, I would've volunteered to host one weekly.

I'm busy handing out directions to Toby's house that I printed on orange paper when Sam appears in front of me.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" I ask, continuing to make my way through the maze of copy and fax machines.

"Did you buy a costume?"

I hand the directions to an Asian man I've never seen before. Maybe we should've had people RSVP.

"I did." I grin.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Ok, that's getting old." Sam stops. "What is it?"

"I'm not telling you." I continue walking, handing out my lovely scalloped-edged directions.

"I told you what I'm wearing," he whines.

"Yes, and you broke rule number two." I glare at him.

"I told you before the rules existed."

"Yes."

"So now you can tell me." He shrugs as if it makes perfect sense. 

I brush a piece of hair behind my ear. "I know how this works. I tell you, you tell Josh, Josh teases me."

"He won't tease you." Sam attempts to laugh.

"So you admit that you'd tell him?"

"No!" He stands a little straighter. "It's just...Well, everyone is being so secretive. I'm used to being on the inside."

"There is no inside, Sam." 

I hand another direction sheet to a guy who appears to be under the drinking age. "How old are you?"

"Twenty," he responds.

"You won't need this." I take the orange paper back, then keep walking toward my desk. "You were saying?"

Sam snaps back to attention. "I'd like to know what at least one other person is wearing so I don't feel so silly for being the only one who everyone knows is the Saturday Night Fever guy."

I snort.

"Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?" I've arrived at my desk. I put the extra directions in my outbox so people can feel free to grab one as they walk by.

"You snorted."

"I didn't tell anyone about your costume, but thanks to you, everyone will know in a matter of minutes."

Margaret comes up behind him. " John Travolta has nothing on you."

He whips his head around. Margaret smiles.

"Dear God."

"Yes," I reply.

"You're not a very nice person, Donna."

"So they say." I sigh.

"Goodbye." He gets halfway down the hallway before turning around. "Oh, I almost forgot. Do you think I should use paprika or cayenne as a garnish on my deviled eggs?"

I pretend to think about it for a second. "Paprika."

"Right." Sam smiles and strides off.

*  
It's 9 a.m. on Saturday morning. CJ and I agreed to meet at Toby's at noon. I don't think Toby understands fully what he agreed to. Of course, he never _really_ agreed to anything. 

CJ went a little crazy with Halloween decorations. She bought 15 pumpkins, six bags of colorful leaves, two scarecrows that stand on their own, 20 black votive candles, and four amber light bulbs for Toby's lamps. She also rented a strobe light and a fog maker.

I'm in charge of the food and alcohol. We took up a collection at work, so I had $165 to spend. It sounds like a lot of money, but that will scarcely cover the drinks. I'm making a witch's brew, complete with dry ice. I figure no one will know I'm using Gordon's vodka rather than Absolut. I spent the rest of the money on six cases of Pete's Wicked Ale, which happened to be on sale, and five bottles of Charles Shaw Shiraz. I bought Toby a bottle of whiskey with my own money. It’s probably not his brand, but I think it will be a fine substitute once he’s had a couple of glasses of my witch’s brew.

Sam is bringing 100 deviled eggs, and the assistants are bringing various heavy appetizers. I still need to buy more food as I fear this party is not just going to be the 20 people CJ and I invited a week ago. So I pick up the phone and go to work.

"Hey," he answers.

"Hi, Josh."

"What's going on?"

"I'm at the market."

"I'm at work." I hear him turn on his computer.

"I might need your assistance."

"Aren't you the one who's supposed to assist me?" I can almost see the smirk.

"Yes, but at this moment, I need your help."

"With what?"

I take a deep breath. "I'm in the checkout line."

"And you need help with the bags?" he asks sarcastically.

"You're a funny man."

"I am."

"You're also charming and handsome." Well, he is.

"Ok, Donna. What do you need?"

"Money," I respond.

"Money?"

"I can't afford all of this stuff, Josh! You know what they pay me."

"Donna," he whines.

"I'll make it up to you." I use my best sweet voice.

"How?"

Oh, if only I could tell you how.

"We'll figure something out." I shrug.

"Fine. This is your Christmas present to yourself."

"Food for others is my Christmas gift?"

"Yes."

"You're the Grinch, Joshua."

"I've been called worse." I can tell he's smiling.

"I'll see you tonight."

"Kay."

With that, I pull out Josh's credit card and charge $122 to his Visa. That was easier than I expected. 

And this is most certainly not my Christmas present.

***  
It takes CJ and I four hours to set up for the party. We place pumpkins around the living room and kitchen, scatter colorful leaves on the tables, hook up the strobe light, and test the fog machine on the front doorstep. Before I leave, I arrange the bar with a little help from a grumbling Toby. CJ's next step is to line the walkway with ceramic pumpkin lanterns that we'll light once it gets dark.

"This looks remarkable," CJ says, standing in the living room.

"Is it scary enough?" I ask.

She shrugs. "I think it's that perfect blend of autumn meets Freddy Kruger."

Toby scratches his head. 

While they were changing light bulbs, CJ told him that he can't speak unless he has something nice or constructive to say.

"I'll be back around six," I say, grabbing my purse.

"Sounds good. I can't wait to get drunk tonight." She grins.

"I'll second that," Toby says.

CJ glares at him.

"Bye." I go to my car and try to psych myself up to squeeze into my dress and wear those thigh-highs with garters. I hope I'm not the only one at the party so scantily clad.

*  
Sam greets me at the door at 6:10 p.m. He's the perfect Tony Manero.

"Wow," he says, eying me from head to toe. 

I look down at my costume. "Is it too much?"

"You mean too little?" he asks.

My cheeks get warm. I'm sure my blush is spreading to my neck and chest.

"That's not..." Sam smiles. "You look fantastic, Donna. It's the perfect costume."

This makes me feel better.

"Look at you!" I say, pointing to his open-collared black shirt and white suit jacket.

"You like it?"

"I love it." I step inside and notice CJ straddling Toby's lap. "Oh, no."

"Yeah," Sam says. "I'm glad you're here. Maybe you can help CJ and I hold him down."

She's in the process of applying fake blood to the sides of Toby's mouth. He's wearing a tuxedo, and his hair is slicked back.

"I'm not wearing the teeth," he says.

"Fine. You don't have to wear the teeth if you just let me put the blood on your chin," CJ responds.

"How long has this been going on?" I ask Sam.

He looks at his watch. "It started before I got here. They were in the bathroom. Toby was yelling something about smelling like Vaseline."

"Ah." CJ must've used petroleum jelly to slick back Toby's hair.

"Hi, Donna!" CJ says once she's apparently satisfied with Toby's appearance. "You look spectacular."

"So do you." CJ is dressed in a long black dress with a slit up the side. There's a shiny silver spider web across her stomach. There's also a high neck piece with a sequin spider web pattern.

"I'm a spider lady." She twirls.

"I can tell."

"You're a flapper?" she asks.

"Yes." I look down once again, a little insecure about the stockings. And the tightness of the dress. "If I don't get a drink in, like, five seconds, I may lose the nerve to wear this thing."

"I like it," Toby says.

All eyes turn toward him as he tugs at his bow tie.

"Thank you, Toby," I respond. "I like your costume too."

He gives me a very small smile, then he walks toward the kitchen. "Where's the whiskey?"

*  
At 7:15, Josh calls to say he's running late. I can't wait to see what he considers "revealing," but I'm having fun looking at all of the costumes.

Carol and Margaret are Betty Rubble and Wilma Flintstone, respectively. Larry and Ed are sailors. Bonnie is a go-go dancer. Ginger is Tinkerbelle. Ainsley is Rapunzel. There are several other people I don't recognize because of their masks.

A pirate approaches me in the kitchen. "Argh, did you make this?"

I scoop my second glass of witch's brew into my cup. "I did."

"It's delicious," he says, lifting his eye patch. "I'm Phil from Advance."

I shake his hand. "Donna from 1920."

He laughs. "Great costume."

"Thanks. You too."

I refill Phil's cup, then add another block of dry ice to the punch bowl. 

"Where's Josh?" Sam asks after closing the refrigerator.

"He called and said he'd be late," I reply.

"I can't wait to see his costume," Sam says.

He's not the only one.

I help Sam arrange a tray of deviled eggs, which, by the way, are delicious. When we return to the living room, I notice at least ten more people have joined our party.

That's when I notice him.

Josh is standing in the middle of the room with his back toward me, but I'd know his butt anywhere. You could line up 20 guys with their backs facing me, and I could pick out Josh. I've had many years of practice staring at his ass. 

It takes me a second to fully appreciate what he's wearing. He's in head-to-toe red spandex with a short, black loin cloth around his waist. There's a black cape tied around his neck, and it stops just above his ass. He has little red horns on his head, and he's caressing a pitch fork.

He's the perfect devil.

When Josh finishes his conversation with a man dressed in a toga, he turns toward me. He takes two steps forward before stopping in his tracks. Josh gulps, then his mouth hangs slightly open. My eyes move from the little horns in his hair to a thin, black mustache with curled edges that he's painted below his nose. The cuteness of the mustache is betrayed by Josh's lips. They look plumper than usual and downright delicious. Josh's chest is just about the sexiest thing I've ever seen. The man has an incredible body. From the looks of it, he's been doing hundreds of sit-ups over the past week. Not that he didn't have well-defined pecs and abs before. It's just that I haven't had the privilege of seeing these particular muscles in a very long time. I've always had a healthy fascination for Josh's arms, and the way the red spandex hugs his biceps makes me gulp. Looking at his toned legs, it's clear that whoever made this costume had Josh in mind.

I lick my lips. I'm still unable to move.

Josh approaches me. "Hi."

"Hi." My voice sounds strangled.

"I'm the devil." He raises his eyebrows with what seems like pride.

"I can see that."

"I'm having devilish thoughts." He smirks.

"Ok."

He swallows hard and takes a step closer to me.

"Josh, you devil!" CJ says, coming up behind us. "What a fun costume."

It takes a second before Josh realizes CJ's talking to him. He quickly removes his eyes from my chest, then looks at CJ. "Hey, CJ."

"That's it? No comment on my costume?" She spins around.

"It's nice." He clenches his jaw.

CJ darts her eyes back and forth between Josh and me. "Ah. Ok, well, I have people to greet."

She walks away, and I'm once again able to stare at the man in front of me. The hot man in front of me.

"I'm a flapper," I say. 

That was about as seductive as Baby telling Johnny, "I carried a watermelon."

"I can see that," he says, staring at my legs. He mumbles something like "They just don't stop."

"It's revealing," I add.

He looks into my eyes. "Yes."

Little beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead. "Are you ok?" I reach for him. His arm is solid against my palm.

"I should probably sit down."

I walk with him outside, never releasing my hold on his bicep. We sit next to each other on a swing. Josh puts his head in his hands.

"Seriously, Josh. Are you all right?" I rub his back. While it's an incredible turn on, I'm worried about his condition. "I'm going to get you some water."

He nods.

I rush inside to get a glass of water, thankful for the time to compose myself. I put both hands on the counter and let my head fall forward. Deep breaths.

"Donna?" CJ asks.

I snap my head up and adjust my posture. "Hi."

"Where's Josh?" She puts two glasses in the dishwasher.

I hook a thumb toward the sliding glass door. "Outside."

"Everything ok?"

I nod. "I just came in to get some water."

She leans against the counter. "Who knew Josh Lyman had such a body?"

"Yes." I know I'm blushing.

"Did you see his chest?" She grins.

No, CJ. I'm blind.

"I did." I avert my eyes.

"When does he have time to workout?"

I love CJ, but does she seriously think I would rather stand here and discuss the hotness that is Josh Lyman instead of actually, you know, touching the hotness of Josh Lyman?

"I should bring him water." I raise the cup in my hand.

She looks at me strangely. "Ok."

With that, I make my escape.

Josh is now sitting fully upright, taking deep breaths.

I hand him the cup of water and remain standing. "Drink this."

He takes the cup from me and drinks the water in four gulps. He puts the empty cup on the arm of the swing, then looks up at me. "You're going to have to move."

I crease my brow. "Move?"

"Yes."

"Move where?" I admit there's a little snip to my voice. I jut my hip out and fold my arms.

"Mygod," he mumbles as if it was one word. "Donna?" His voice is raspy.

"Yes?"

"Just...don't stand right there." He finally looks into my eyes. "You can't stand there, you know, like that."

Then I notice it: his eyes are filled with desire.

It's a good thing Josh doesn't want me standing in front of him, because my knees are about to buckle.

"Sit," he says in a low voice.

I sit next to him.

Josh leans back, putting his arm on the back of the swing.

I try to lighten the mood. "I didn't know devils wore capes."

"I didn't know flappers wore thigh-highs."

I'm thankful to see him smirking. That look of desire was almost too much to handle. If he would've kept that up, I would've had to take him behind the ligustrum.

Josh's hand creeps onto my shoulder. It gives me goose bumps. 

Uh oh. There's that look again. The only thing that's saving me from jumping him right here is the little mustache he created.

"Nice mustache," I say.

He grins. "You like it?"

I nod. "It's cute."

Josh's hand is now firmly planted on my shoulder and his fingertips are making tiny circles on my upper arm.

"I borrowed your eyeliner," he admits.

"Josh!"

He shrugs. "I needed something less permanent than a marker."

"So you stole my eyeliner?" I put my hand on his thigh. 

"Not stole, Donna. Borrowed." He pulls me a little closer.

"There you guys are!" Sam appears in front of us.

I quickly remove my hand from Josh's leg. He takes his hand off my shoulder.

"Hi, Sam," Josh replies with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"You haven't commented on my costume," Sam says.

Josh raises his eyebrows. "It's great."

Sam cups his hand around his ear. "They're playing 'The Monster Mash'!"

"You should go dance," Josh says.

"I wonder if there are any disco moves I could try to this song," he says, walking back indoors.

I stand. "We should go inside."

"Why?" He looks dejected.

"Because there's a party," I say sarcastically.

He shrugs. "I was having fun out here."

"Yes, but there's also fun in there."

His eyes travel down my body. "Your legs."

I look down. "What about them?"

Josh stands. "Walk with me."

We're in a fenced-in yard. Does he want to take a lap around the property? Nevertheless, I follow him.

"You can't go back in there," he says.

We've stopped on the side of the house next to the garden hose.

I raise my eyebrows. "Why not?"

"Because you're...you know." He makes a sweeping gesture with his hand.

"No, I don't know, Josh." I put my hands on my hips. "Enlighten me."

Before I know it, my back is pressed against the wall. Josh's right hand is on the back of my head, cushioning the blow I'm sure I would've felt against the hard brick. His left hand is on my hip. 

And he's kissing me.

I don't know which sensation I should concentrate on. Josh's lips are soft, his tongue is warm and his body is firm against mine. I press my palms into his chest and slowly rub my way down his stomach. I love the way the satin spandex feels, but I'd really like to touch his skin.

He breaks the kiss, but he doesn't pull his mouth away from mine. "It's two pieces."

"Hmm?" I'm reduced to noises rather than words.

"The costume." I feel his breath against my lips. "There's a top and a bottom."

I grab a handful of spandex and frantically pull upwards. I reveal just a few inches of skin, but it's enough to satisfy me. I run my hands under the shirt and over his nipples. 

Josh moans. He kisses me again. 

He moves his left hand to my thigh and spends an inordinate amount of time rubbing the spot where my garter end and my skin begins.

After ravishing each other for God knows how long, we pull apart enough to look at each other.

"I forgot about the mustache." It's so cute that it kind of ruins the mood.

Apparently, Josh senses this. He removes his right hand from the back of my neck and scrubs his upper lip. All that remains of the mustache is a little black smudge in the cleft between his nose and his lip. I rub it with my thumb, but it's a stubborn stain. Josh takes my thumb into his mouth and sucks on it. Thank God he has me pressed against the wall because my knees once again buckle. When he releases my thumb, I rub at the smudge again. The blackness is almost gone, but I think it needs to be a little wetter. I open my mouth and suck on the spot.

Josh doesn't seem to mind. In fact, by the way his hand is rubbing my ass, I think he quite likes it.

"Still want to go inside?" he asks between kisses.

"Want to? No. Should we? Yes."

He rests his forehead against mine. 

I move one of my hands to his ass. I've dreamed of feeling Josh's butt. It's hard and round and absolutely perfect. I love the way it looks in this little loin cloth, but I think next year, or, you know, later tonight, I'd like to see him in baseball pants.

"We'll go inside on one condition," he says.

I smile. "What's that?"

He takes a step back and grabs my hand. "After the party, I'm still allowed to be the devil."

"Only if I get to use your pitch fork," I reply.

"Deal."

We walk inside and pour two glasses of witch's brew. I find my way across the room, leaving Josh in the kitchen. If I'm next to the man, I don't think I could keep my hands off of him.

When I'm safely ten feet away, I hear Toby say to Josh, "What in the hell happened to you?"

It's then that I notice Josh's disheveled appearance. Oops. I forgot to tuck in his shirt. And his loin cloth is quite crooked. Now that he's in brighter setting, I realize much of his mustache is still painted on his face, but it's terribly smudged.

Josh smirks. "It had nothing to do with hell, my friend."


End file.
